


All I Want for Christmas is You

by cantthinkofausername_B_Pike



Series: Carry On Countdown 2017 [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boys Kissing, Carry On Countdown, M/M, Mistletoe, it's a cliche, meddling penny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cantthinkofausername_B_Pike/pseuds/cantthinkofausername_B_Pike
Summary: It's Watford's annual Christmas party, so naturally there's mistletoeeverywhere. Simon never expected to find himself under the mistletoe with Baz, of all people.





	All I Want for Christmas is You

**Author's Note:**

> And so begins the Carry On Countdown. Thanks to my wonderful sister for betaing all of this. Cross-posted on my Tumblr, @alpacasandravens  
> I think Baz is kind of OOC in this. Sorry.

Every year, just before winter break, Watford hosts a Christmas party. A group of fifth, sixth, and seventh years band together to organize it, always trying to outdo the previous year’s party. Usually, it’s pretty cheesy – ugly Christmas sweaters, mistletoe and holly everywhere, some holiday music from fifty years ago playing. Despite its ridiculousness, it’s always a good time. That is, until this year.  
For some reason, I just can’t get into the party mood this year. Thoughts of the Humdrum and his plans keep creeping in. (I’m a little worried about Baz’s plans too. I haven’t seen him yet.) I’m determined to enjoy myself though, since it’s my last year. 

The party’s been in full swing for a couple hours now, and the sun’s gone down. It hasn’t snowed yet, but the air is heavy with the promise of it. Someone spiked the eggnog a while ago. I’m pretty sure it was Gareth. Normally, I’d have had a couple drinks and I’d be dancing with Agatha. I can’t do that this year; we haven’t talked much since she broke up with me a couple months ago. Penny is doing something apparently very interesting on her phone. Parties aren’t really her thing. Baz isn’t here either, not that I would be hanging out with him if he were. That leaves me alone in a sea of younger kids singing off-key to the classics on the radio. 

I try to dance for a little bit, but it’s just no fun if you’re not dancing with someone. You have to have someone to laugh at bad dance moves with. So I roam the edges of the party for a while, lingering by the snack table. Even here, the Watford food is excellent, and I am prepared to take full advantage of this. I only stay there for a few minutes though; I’m restless. I have this feeling that tonight should be _more_ , not simply a replay of the same party I’ve been to seven times before.

Eventually, I drop into a chair at Penny’s table. Somehow, she’s monopolized the table: despite there being eight or so chairs, she’s the only one sitting there. She types something into her phone, then looks up.

“Will you come dance with me, or something?” I ask. 

“Not really feeling dancing right now,” she replies. Smirking, she picks up her phone and sends a quick text.

“What would you like to do, then?” I just want to do something, but I don’t know what to do.

She shrugs. “Can you get me an eggnog? Mine ran out.”

I groan. “Can’t you get your own?”

“You’re the one who wanted to do something,” she says.

“Fine.”

Grumpily, I stand up and begin weaving my way through the crowd. Not many students go to Watford, but it certainly feels like a lot when they’re all in two not-so-large rooms. As I walk through the door to the room with the refreshments, I run into someone. Looking up, I see it’s Baz, and that he’s unusually flustered. And as my eyes keep wandering upward, I see why: there’s a sprig of mistletoe above us.

I expect us to both conveniently ignore the mistletoe overhead and walk away pretending this never happened. Instead, Baz’s eyes roam my face in a way that can only be described as predatory. His hair is combed back, and I find myself wishing it was loose so I could run my fingers through it. He reaches out and cups my face with one hand. I spark where he runs his thumb over my cheek. 

For a moment, I forget that I’m at a party, forget that this is my enemy. He’s simply an extremely attractive boy who wants to kiss me, so I kiss him.

As soon as our lips touch, I remember who this is. Baz, my roommate _who hates me_ , who is kissing me like it’s the only thing in the world. This isn’t anything I’d imagine hate kissing to be. (Not that I’ve imagined that.) It’s not angry and impatient. Baz is kissing me like he’s drowning and I’m air. I twine my fingers in his hair, and I don’t care that I’m wrecking it. I feel like I’m on fire. This is _everything_.

Baz breaks away from my lips, kissing his way along my jaw, down to the mole on my neck. I gasp, and someone whistles. Which is when I realize where we are.

My eyes snap open, and I see that we’ve drawn a crowd. At least ten of our classmates are blatantly staring at us. A few are exchanging money and trying to be subtle about it. One of them calls, “Go get him, mate!” from across the room. I’m not sure which one of us he’s referring to.

“Get a room, you two!” Someone else says.

“They already have one!” Everyone laughs.

Red-faced, we look everywhere but at each other as we stand in awkward silence. After a few seconds, we hurriedly walk in opposite directions, eyes trained on the ground.

“It’s about time,” Trixie says as I pass her. I don’t look up.

I slide into the seat next to Penny. She doesn’t look up from her phone. She’s been reading some article on there all day. “My drink?”

“Um, well, you see, uh,” I stutter. I’d completely forgotten to get her drink. I hadn’t even made it to the eggnog.

“Forgot?” Penny raises an eyebrow, an expression I’m used to seeing on Baz’s face. I open my mouth to say something, though I have no idea what, but she cuts me off. “I really couldn’t expect you to remember, after that,” she says knowingly.

Any hope I had that Penny might not have seen what just occurred vanishes. “Sorry?” I offer.

“You’re not,” she says, but she doesn’t sound angry. And she’s right, I’m really not sorry. For some reason, all I can think of is how Baz’s lips felt against mine, and how much I would like to do that again. Where is Baz, anyway? I look around, but I don’t see him anymore. I didn’t make him leave, did I?

Penny snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Ahem?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re hopeless.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. My mind is still elsewhere, replaying the events of two minutes ago in slow motion.

She smiles wryly. “You two. I wondered how long it would take.”

“Us two? Baz and I aren’t – it was just mistletoe, Pen!”

“Mhmmm. I’ve seen my share of mistletoe kisses, Simon. They don’t look like that.”

“Like that?” I ask. I still don’t know what she’s going on about. After all, Baz and I are enemies. And I used to have a girlfriend. So that’s all it could have been, really. (So why can’t I stop thinking about it?)

Penny finally puts her phone down to look me in the eyes. “Like you’re about to fuck in front of everyone. I think you and Baz have some things to talk about. But if you aren’t going to talk to him, could you get me an eggnog?” She picks her phone up again, and it’s clear the conversation is over.

I gape at her for a moment. _That_ just happened, with Baz, and she’s not even going to let me freak out about it? Also, how did everyone see that coming except me?

I stand up and begin to search for Baz, but I don’t see him anywhere. Vaguely, I realize that Penny’s plan has worked. I still don’t know what she gets out of this.

“Have you seen Baz?” I ask Gareth.

He laughs. “Surprised you’re still here. I thought you’d left together.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

I sigh and walk away. Why are my friends so terrible?

“Do you know where Baz went?” I reluctantly ask Niall. He cracks his knuckles threateningly and says nothing. “Thanks,” I say sarcastically.

 _Maybe he’s gone back to our room_ , I think, so I leave the party. I’m walking across the lawn to Mummers House when I see a speck of movement up on the ramparts. The more I look at it, the more it resembles a human figure, silhouetted against the dark clouds.

I practically sprint up the stairs. When I arrive, Baz is sitting on the ramparts, his legs dangling over the edge. It’s windy up here, and the wind rips right through my thin sweater. The only thing keeping me warm is my magic. Baz must be freezing. (He’s always cold.) His hair is whipping around his face, and his face is turned down, looking at the light spilling from the open door to the party. I can hear faint singing still, pure and full of excitement.

Fifty off-key voices sing “All I want for Christmas is you,” as I sit down next to Baz. I almost laugh; of course that would be the song on now. I wouldn’t put it past them to have done that on purpose.

For a bit, we sit in silence. It wasn’t a comfortable silence; it was the type of silence filled with things demanding to be said. 

“That was my first kiss.” Baz says it so softly I almost miss it.

“Oh.”

“Why did you kiss me?”

I shrug. “I wanted to.”

He turns to face me. It’s so dark that his skin seems to glow. “Why?” His eyes bore into mine, asking me to understand his real question. _What does this mean to you?_

“I’d never thought about it before. It felt right.” I don’t know how to explain it beyond that.

“How?”

I don’t know what he’s asking, and I tell him so.

He sighs, which somehow manages to convey all his irritation with me. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes. Did you?”

No answer. His eyes are roaming all over me, like he’s trying to memorize me, and that says enough.

I place my hand on the back of his neck, and he leans into me. His eyes slide closed, and it looks almost involuntary, like he can’t stop himself. He’s waiting, I realize. Waiting for me to kiss him. So I do.

Baz lets out a shuddering breath. His hands are cold where they touch my face, my back. Baz is cold, and I’m burning. I want him closer to me. Kissing like this is awkward; we’re balancing on a wall, twisted around to face each other. I don’t care. I never want to stop.

Far too soon, he pulls away. He slides his hand down my arm and looks me in the eyes. His eyes are gray, but here they look black and endless. I could drown in those eyes. “I need to know if you mean this,” Baz says.

I nod. I can’t think of much besides how much I would like to still be touching him.

He takes a deep breath. “Snow. If it was anyone else under that mistletoe, I wouldn’t have kissed them.” And I understand that this is a confession.

“I mean this,” I say. I kiss him again, only for a few seconds. I don’t know how I ever went without this. How I ever thought he was plotting against me. “Baz, what do you want?” I’m leaving this, whatever this is, up to him.

“You,” he says, with startling simplicity. “I want to hold your hand. I want to be able to kiss you. I want to be your terrible boyfriend, if you’ll let me.”

I’m shocked. _This_ must be what everyone saw between us. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but this is all so new to me. Wanting to kiss Baz, wanting to be near him – actually, that’s not new.

Before I can reply, Baz’s phone goes off. It’s irritatingly loud in the near silence of the ramparts. “Shit,” he mutters, pulling the phone out of his pocket. “Really, Bunce? Now?”  
I raise my eyebrows. 

“She’s been texting me all night. Wants to know where I went. She said she wanted to talk to me earlier, but…” He trailed off.

“Why is this important?” Baz just asked me to be his _boyfriend_. I don’t care what Penny just said. She’s ruining the moment. Around us, snowflakes begin to dance through the air.

Baz glares at his phone before looking up at me. “I think Bunce set us up.”

I laugh; it sounds insane. But the more I think about it, the more likely it seems. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m going to _kill_ her,” he laughs.

“Well, it worked out, didn’t it?”

“I don’t know,” he says, eyes softening with uncertainty, “did it?”

I thought it was pretty obvious, what with all the kissing. “Yes,” I say, pulling him in for another kiss, “it did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos make my day :)


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